


A Misunderstood Dynamic

by alocalband



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Pre-Slash, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 09:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13163871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alocalband/pseuds/alocalband
Summary: Their first Christmas as roommates is spent snowed in at the Haus alone together.Because of course it is.





	A Misunderstood Dynamic

Their first Christmas as roommates is spent snowed in at the Haus alone together.

Because of course it is.

Dex couldn’t let himself turn down overtime at work over the holiday break, and figured he’d just drive up to Maine on Christmas Eve. Nursey, because he’s Nursey, put off getting his plane ticket to meet his family in whatever vacation spot they’ve chosen this year--Dex refuses to ask--for so long that the only seat he could get was on a flight in the early hours of Christmas morning.

But then the snow picked up, the roads got blocked, and all flights for the foreseeable future got grounded.

They still have power and heat. This situation isn’t, like, _dire_. But kicking around the abnormally silent and empty Haus all Christmas Eve day while pretending they’re not avoiding each other is a little miserable. And lonely.

It’s been a... _tense_ semester. No major blowouts between them, but that’s mostly because they’ve gotten very good at ignoring each other unless they’re on the ice together.

So, by mutual, silent agreement, they find completely different corners of the Haus to while away the hours in for the holiday. Nursey takes up residence at the desk in their bedroom, staring wistfully out the window at the falling snow, headphones on and pen in hand. Dex sets up camp on the living room floor, back against that biohazard of a couch, alternately tinkering away on his laptop and failing at trying not to feel sorry for himself.

At around sunset, Dex finally decides he can’t take it any longer.

For as much as he tends to internalize any emotion that isn’t frustration or anger--a self-defense mechanism he picked up at an early age--he still can’t help jumping into action rather than sitting on his hands when faced with a problem, emotional or otherwise.

A passive response to his own distress was never in the cards for him, even if all that response manifests as is endlessly working on the Haus dryer whenever he starts to feel uncertain about his place on the team, about his inclusion in this strange family that he has a hard time believing actually want him around.

The kitchen is well stocked, of course it is, but it’s not like they’ve got a Christmas ham in the freezer, or any of the fixings for what Dex is used to during the holiday when he’s at home.

Still, he can make a pie. And cookies. He can throw together some chicken parmesan and twice baked potatoes and roasted asparagus and...

Dex isn’t sure how long he spends in there, but by the time he’s just about done with everything, he’s got way more food than he originally intended, and it’s fully dark outside. He plugs in the Christmas lights that Bitty and Chowder put up before they left, multicolored and strung up along the edges of every downstairs wall, and it bathes the kitchen in that particular glow that makes Dex think of Christmas Eve’s as a kid, when he and his brother would fall asleep in sleeping bags under the tree while waiting for Santa.

Dex looks at what he’s done and smiles softly.

And then he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head at himself. He draws in a fortifying breath and heads upstairs to his bedroom to just get this over with already.

“Hey,” he says from the doorway.

Nursey no longer has his headphones on, and has moved from the desk to the bottom bunk, lying on his back across it with a heavy book in his hands. He drops the book onto his chest and looks up at Dex, impassive. “Yo.”

“I made dinner.”

Nursey raises an eyebrow. “And you’re actually gonna share it?”

“It’s Christmas.”

Nursey snorts. “Sap.”

Dex huffs. “Listen, if you don’t want--”

“Nah man, I’m starving, sign me up.”

When they get to the kitchen, Nursey stops short and just stands there frozen for several long moments, visibly stunned by the spread of food before him. And possibly also by the glowing Christmas lights, and the deep red tablecloth Dex pulled out because it seemed appropriate for the occasion, and the poinsettia he placed in the middle of it all, because it was just there on the windowsill where Bitty left it and why not, right? It’s Christmas. He’s allowed to want things to look and feel _like Christmas_ , so sue him.

Still. It’s probably a bit much. Especially coming from William Poindexter, the one guy on this ridiculous team who rarely even manages to get into the spirit of a decent _kegster_ , let alone an occasion more sentimental.

Dex clears his throat, embarrassed. Hopefully the dim lighting will hide most of his blush. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“If you’re going to chirp me, I’m taking back the invite.”

Nursey mimes zipping his lips closed. Dex rolls his eyes and starts dishing up a plate.

The silence between them as they get their meals together is pointed, strained, and Nursey won’t stop tapping his fingers agitatedly against every single hard surface.

They’re halfway through their dinners, seated across the small table from each other, when Dex sighs, long-suffering. “Oh my god, fine, just get it out of your system so we can finish eating.”

Nursey immediately stops fidgeting and smirks. “So did Bits, like, officially pass down his apron to you or what? Is this some kind of rite of passage towards becoming next year’s den mother?”

Dex throws a napkin at Nursey’s head. “Fuck off. This is just something I wanted to do, alright?”

“Aw. And his heart grew three sizes that day.”

“I’m not the god damn Grinch, Nurse. I love Christmas.”

Nursey glances around the room meaningfully. “I’m getting that.”

Dex narrows his eyes. “The fact that you’re not even trying to hide how surprised you are is concerning.”

“Uh, because, bro? I’m fucking _floored_. I thought the only things you ‘loved’ were your toolbox and frowning.”

Dex swallows back his first instinct, which is to throw back something equally mean about Nursey’s own lack of obvious emotions beyond those he puts on for show, and instead looks down at his food. He hesitates, but then shrugs and goes for honesty. “I just. I don’t know. I was feeling...”

“Abnormally sentimental?”

“Homesick. So I decided to fix it.”

A small smile graces Nursey’s features at that, the kind that doesn’t look like a show. It’s rare, but Dex has caught it a couple of times in passing since they moved into the Haus together. “Yeah, alright. I can see that I guess. It is what you do, after all.”

“What I do?”

“Fix things. I swear, it’s like you can’t help yourself.”

Dex frowns. “Is that... a bad thing? I’m trying to find the criticism in there, but I’m coming up empty.”

“No criticism, dude. And P.S. this chicken is fucking kick ass.”

Dex doesn’t think he’s ever heard Nursey say so many nice things about him all at the same time before. Not outside of hockey. “Okay, well, now I’m the one who’s floored. Who are you and what have you done with my roommate?”

Nursey’s eyebrows furrow and he pauses chewing, but he takes a while of internally debating with himself before he swallows and says, like he thinks Dex might have a head injury, “I don’t just spew negativity all over the place. It’s not _out of the ordinary_ for me to give a freaking compliment.”

“When it comes to me? Yeah, it is.”

Nursey’s eyebrows scrunch together a little more, the top of his nose wrinkling, and his mouth twisting into a tight sideways purse that looks equal parts thoughtful and annoyed.

“Don’t strain anything over there, Nurse.”

“I just. I thought _you_ were the asshole in this relationship. Like, I’m me and you’re a dick. That’s how we work.”

Dex sets down his knife and fork so that he isn’t tempted to use either of them on his roommate. “ _No_ ,” he says, drawing out the word. “ _I’m_ me and _you’re_ a dick. _That’s_ our dynamic. I figured we were at least on the same page about that much.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, eyes locked. Finally, Nursey puts an elbow on the table by his plate and lets his head fall into his open palm. “Wow. I feel like my entire worldview just rearranged itself.”

“Are you seriously telling me that you aren’t _trying_ to get a rise out of me all the time? That it’s all just... you being you?”

Nursey raises his head back up. “Are you seriously telling me that you’re not just stonewalling _me_ _in particular_ at every turn and are actually just that much of an uptight curmudgeon _with everybody_?”

“I’m not a--” But Dex stops himself short from finishing the rebuttal, because it won’t do him any favors to start that particular argument. He’s self-aware enough to know how he comes across to people, even after two and a half years now of feeling increasingly more comfortable with his internal self while at Samwell, enough so to start thinking about not hiding it as much anymore.

Dex draws in a deep breath and tries again. “Is that why you’ve been ignoring me since we moved in?”

Nursey looks down at his plate and idly runs his fork tines in patterns through his leftovers. He shrugs a shoulder, but it doesn’t look casual for once. It looks forced and far more self-conscious than Nursey ever really lets himself appear. “I don’t know, man. I figured you were going to be ignoring _me_ all semester anyway, so I thought I’d beat you to the punch. Make it look like it was my idea all along.”

Dex ducks his head and wishes he’d thought to break out the booze for this. He grabs the back of his neck with one hand, and plays with the ends of the tablecloth with the other. “You frustrate me beyond all fucking reason, Nursey, but I wasn’t planning on giving you the cold shoulder _now_ when I’ve been putting up with it for two years already.”

“Alright, you say that, but I saw your meltdown when we did the dibs flip.”

Dex grimaces down at his asparagus. “Okay, I maybe could have handled that better. But it wasn’t about _you,_ alright? It was about having to change all of my plans. I was banking on my own room, and I... I have trouble when it comes to dealing with unexpected disruptions.”

He’s expecting a chirp. What he gets instead is a thoughtful head nod. “So... kinda like Rans and his spreadsheets? Super fragile ecosystem or whatever?”

“...Yeah, kinda.”

“Chill. I can get that.”

“You can?”

“Bro, we share a bathroom now. You’ve seen our medicine cabinet. You think I take Klonopin for fun? _I get it_.”

And well, yeah, Dex has noticed the prescriptions, but he’s never brought it up. Just like he’s never let himself dwell on the fact long enough to wonder how a medicated anxiety disorder factors into the way Nursey behaves. Because he always just assumed Nursey was a completely different person with everyone else, and an intentionally obnoxious shithead with Dex and Dex alone.

But apparently that’s not the case. _Apparently,_ Nursey is a carefully composed amalgamation of surface-level bullshit _all of the time_. Most people find it charming, some people find it amusing, and Dex finds it to be more grating than he has the words to describe.

He takes a moment now to let himself think over this new knowledge, and admit to himself what the obvious conclusion to draw from it all is: The _way_ that Nursey hides himself in plain sight isn’t what bothers Dex so much as it is how much better Nursey is at hiding than he is. Nursey is _always on_ and people _love_ him for it. He’s got his own freaking fanclub. And Dex has hated the ease with which he seemed to go about getting it.

Only maybe it’s not easy for Nursey. Maybe it’s never been as easy as Dex has assumed.

And maybe, judging by the way Nursey is currently studying him, Nursey is starting to realize similar things about Dex.

Dex purses his lips together and nods his head, steeling himself. “I didn’t get you a present.”

“I really wasn’t expecting--”

“But I think I have one for you anyway,” Dex interrupts in a rush of air, his cheeks suddenly hot to the touch.

Nursey blinks. “I have so many questions in response to that, but chiefly among them is, um, _why?_ ”

“Because we’re starting this year over. It’s Christmas and I want to spend it with _friends_. So. Ask me anything. That’s my present. I’ll tell you anything you want to know about me, and I’ll ask you questions too, though you’re not obligated to answer. and maybe we can figure out how to be better together than we have been.”

“Your present for me is a game of twenty questions.” Nursey’s voice is flat, a little disbelieving, and a lot amused.

“Yeah. We can actually get solid facts about each other, instead of just making assumptions. Get to know each other for once.”

“So, like a first date,” Nursey jokes with a smirk.

Dex goes very still at that. He tries to cover the fact, but it’s too late. Nursey notices and stills in response as well, his expression suddenly wary. Like he’s expecting Dex to do something awful.

“I didn’t mean--” Nursey starts, like he’s trying to placate a wild animal that he’s worried is about to maul him.

“It’s fine,” Dex jumps in to assure

“You don’t seem fine. It was a joke, bro. And honestly, if it makes you that uncomfortable just at the passing mention of another dude being--”

“Derek, I’m gay.”

An abrupt and heavy pause follows that one.

“...What.” Nursey doesn’t even make it a question, just says the word, clipped and without intonation.

Dex forces a shrug. The muscles in his shoulders tense even more at being made to move, so it probably looks as painful as it feels. “I told Bitty a couple weeks ago. I was gonna tell Chowder next, but. I don’t know. Haven’t worked up the nerve, I guess.”

“You... Will, what the fuck? You’re serious?”

Dex doesn’t regret telling Bitty, and he doesn’t regret telling Nursey now, even if Nursey was dead last on his original list of people to come out to. Every time he says the words aloud he feels a little bit lighter, a little less tightly wound, and a little closer to finally fixing the problem of how the world sees him.

“See? We’re getting to know each other better already.” He tries for levity, pretty clearly misses the mark, but keeps going anyway. “First date twenty questions is definitely working.”

Nursey’s hands are clenched into fists, and he’s so tense he’s almost vibrating, his dark eyes locked on Dex’s. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say. Like, thank you for trusting me? But I don’t think you do trust me, so I... I mean.” He takes a deep breath. “I like dudes too? Sometimes?”

Dex nearly swallows his tongue. “Oh. Okay. Cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

“Sometimes?”

“My sexuality is kind of a work in progress. Much like the rest of me, as you’ve probably noticed.”

“Hey, join the club, man. Do I look like I know what the hell I’m doing half the time?”

“Honestly? Yeah, you kinda do. Every time you fix the upstairs plumbing it feels like watching you score a fucking hat trick in the being an adult department.”

“I could say the same whenever I watch another barista slip you a phone number.”

Dex doesn’t even realize he’s smiling until he notices that Nursey’s smiling right back at him. They stare at each other with equally goofy, happy faces for a long moment, and it should be awkward, but... it isn’t. It’s kind of amazing.

Dex feels like some sort of Christmas miracle has just occurred.

They start to dig into the pie then, and Nursey finally breaks out a couple of beers from the back of the fridge that they both make quick work of as they awkwardly navigate a conversation of overly personal questions.

Several hours later, Dex finds that while Nursey is still one of the most annoying people he’s ever met in his entire life, he’s also... interesting. And smart. And complicated. And secretly self-conscious about all of the attention he gets for his looks, even though he’s always plays it off so smoothly.

“I don’t know what to tell ya, buddy, it just weirds me out. I was a dorky looking kid, and I stood out like you wouldn’t fucking believe as the only black kid in my grade my first couple years at Andover. So it’s just weird.”

“Oh come on. I know you know you’re good looking, Nurse. I’ve seen the amount of hair products you own.”

“Okay, you are literally not allowed to talk about hair products to me _ever_ , Mr. Two-In-One Shampoo and Conditioner.” Dex rolls his eyes, but Nursey’s got a glint in his own that means trouble. “But you know what? Tell me more about how ‘good looking’ I am.”

“I thought that kind of talk ‘weirded you out.’”

Nursey shrugs and leans forward across the table, resting his chin on his clasped hands. “Yeah, but when _you_ say it, it doesn’t sound so absurd. It just sounds like a fact. Like the sky is blue and Will Poindexter thinks I’m hot. It’s hard not to believe you when you talk like a textbook.”

“First of all, no I don’t and you can fuck right off. Second of all, the word ‘hot’ has never once left my lips in regards to you.”

Nursey just grins. “Liar.”

The snow is still falling outside, but has transitioned from a storm into large, soft flakes that gather into powder on the windowsills.

They move to the living room, mostly because Dex cleaned out the old, crumbling fireplace last winter and sitting on the floor near it is currently the most comfortable place in the entire Huas. It’s fucking _cozy_ , and Dex can’t believe they got here in only a handful of hours.

They sit on their asses on the floorboards, backs against the couch, and pile as many blankets across their legs as they can find. Dex has a plate of cookies sitting on the floor beside his hip, and Nursey’s got the last beer in the Haus that they decided to split next to his. And neither of them attempt to set those things between them instead, a space that grows increasingly smaller.

“Merry Christmas, Dex,” Nursey says, toasting the air in Dex’s direction with their beer, taking a sip, and then handing it to Dex, who does the same.

“Merry Christmas, Nursey.”

It’s quiet for a few moments, but Nursey seems to be chewing over something internally do Dex watches the fire and waits for him.

His voice is a whisper when he finally asks, “Why did you react like that at the idea of this being a date? I mean, if you’re chill with the dude thing, then...”

Dex swallows heavily. “I don’t know.”

Nursey nods, accepting that. And the thing is, Dex really doesn’t know. But something about the idea of him and Nursey sitting at dinner table for romantic reasons than platonic ones, struck a chord in him that has been getting louder and louder over the course of this night of really learning about the guy.

It’s not a good idea, he knows it’s not, but a passive response to his own distress was never in the cards for Dex. He was never not going to be able to try to fix whatever problem he’s faced with, emotional or otherwise.

So he reaches out with the hand beneath the blankets and places it on Nursey’s.

Without missing a beat, Nursey turns his own hand over, and tangles their fingers together.

They fall asleep on the living room floor like that, curled up in front of the dying fire, beneath the multicolored Christmas lights, hands still held together between them, and small, genuine smiles on their faces.


End file.
